


we'll meet again when the temperature is lower

by shellfishDimes



Category: DEAN (Korean Musician), FANXY CHILD (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Declarations Of Love, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunken Kissing, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Reunion Sex, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Semi-Public Sex, Smoking, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-18 00:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellfishDimes/pseuds/shellfishDimes
Summary: "Are you calling me handsome, Hyoseobie?"Hyoseob tilts his face up to the sky and blows smoke out his mouth. "Yeah." White against the dark. "And?"There's no reason for him to be careful with what he's saying. Hyuk is going to leave for London again soon. He hasn't said a date, but he keeps talking about the city. Seoul wraps strange around his shoulders these days. The streets unwind in uncomfortable ways under his shoes when he walks. Hyuk doesn't fit the landscape anymore — how he dresses, how he walks, the way he holds himself these days. He was always meant for more than what this city had for him, but there's a bitterly selfish part of Hyoseob, lurking somewhere in the ugliest corners of his heart, that wishes London would find a way to disappoint him so that he'd come back to Seoul for good. Hyoseob tamps the feeling down, the way he puts out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. It smudges black on the pavement. He immediately wants another one. The roof of his mouth tastes like nicotine.





	we'll meet again when the temperature is lower

The club is packed, bodies pressed tight together, phones in the air. Elbows bumping against elbows, hands on backs, and hips, and around bottles. The walls are sweating. Hyoseob is sweating. One girl is so close to Seunghyun's deck, and her hair is so long that the ends nearly tangle in the knobs. Hyoseob climbs up on the table, using Hyuk's shoulder for support. The girl at the front jumps back, ecstatic, her phone pointed at his face.

Seunghyun's fingers fly over the turntables.

Hyoseob jerks his wrist, spills an entire bottle of water over the crowd when Seunghyun drops the beat, with perfect timing.

Everyone in the crowd screams.

At the end of the set, he climbs off the stage as they're all stomping their feet for more, and Hyuk is grinning at him, so wide. It has to be the lights, or the fact that Hyoseob is sweating through all his pores and lightheaded from the alcohol, any of those things or all of them, because it's just Hyuk, but Hyoseob can be damned if he doesn't look like the prettiest motherfucker this side of the Han.

"Gangnam's on the other side of the river," he says, later, when they're smoking outside together. 

Hyuk chuckles. Shakes the ash off his cigarette on the ground. "Yeah, I know. What?"

They're both drunk. Sweat is drying on Hyoseob's forehead, on his back under his shirt. He shouldn't have said yes to the bourbon Hyuk had brought with him, but it was their first gig together in such a long time. Even without Jiho and Dongwook there, busy with their own shit, this was big enough of a thing to celebrate with a bottle of imported alcohol Hyuk had been saving for a special occasion. That had turned out to be Hyoseob, Seunghyun and Hyuk in Hyoseob's apartment, and then at soundcheck, and then in the little back room of the club, racing against time to finish the bottle before the gig.

"All the handsome people are in Gangnam," Hyoseob says, all his edges fuzzy. His cheeks are hot, rapidly cooling in the autumn air. He feels like maybe he's swaying, a little. He gestures with his cigarette. "So why are you here? You're out of place."

"Are you calling me handsome, Hyoseobie?" Hyuk takes a drag from his cigarette, lips puckering a little. His hair is curling around the sides of his face where it's escaped his hair tie, tacky with sweat. The collar of his shirt is wet from when he washed his face in the bathroom before they left the club. 

Hyoseob tilts his face up to the sky and blows smoke out his mouth. "Yeah." White against the dark. "And?"

There's no reason for him to be careful with what he's saying. Hyuk is going to leave for London again soon. He hasn't said a date, but he keeps talking about the city. Seoul wraps strange around his shoulders these days. The streets unwind in uncomfortable ways under his shoes when he walks. Hyuk doesn't fit the landscape anymore — how he dresses, how he walks, the way he holds himself these days. He was always meant for more than what this city had for him, but there's a bitterly selfish part of Hyoseob, lurking somewhere in the ugliest corners of his heart, that wishes London would find a way to disappoint him so that he'd come back to Seoul for good. Hyoseob tamps the feeling down, the way he puts out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. It smudges black on the pavement. He immediately wants another one. The roof of his mouth tastes like nicotine.

Hyuk flicks the stub of his cigarette to the ground. "And." There's ash stuck to the pads of his fingers. He rubs them together to get rid of it and peeks at Hyoseob, hair falling over one eye. "You wanna do something about it?"

Hyoseob wants to kiss him like they used to do. He wants to put his hands on the skin of Hyuk's stomach, his chest, to see if his body still responds the same when Hyoseob touches him. He doesn't want to think about the morning. He doesn't want to sober up.

Hyuk grins, wide and with his top teeth pressing against his bottom lip. "I know that face." And he probably does. He knows most of Hyoseob's faces. 

Hyuk sidesteps him, and heads deeper into the alley, away from view of the back door, behind where they've piled up stacks of cardboard boxes and filled them with pale yellow bags bulging with empty bottles and half-crushed cans.

Hyoseob follows him, because he knows most of Hyuk's faces, too. Not even London managed to change that. And this one says — you want to follow me. And he does. And he follows.

There's a gutter pipe there, running from high up and into the ground, covered in stickers and signatures. There's an empty bottle of beer placed on the asphalt next to the pipe, the colours on the label pale enough for it to have been there a long time. The ground is covered in old gum and cigarette butts. Hyoseob steps over an empty condom wrapper.

And there's Hyuk, leaning against the wall, one foot up on the big pink tag sprayed over it. There's Hyuk, taking hold of Hyoseob's jacket to pull him close. His mouth tastes like the cigarettes he smokes when they kiss. It tastes bitter and stale, like all the time he's been away, and the longer Hyoseob kisses him, the less he notices that. And then he tastes good again, like spit and warmth, and when Hyoseob runs the tips of his fingers across the soft jut of his cheekbone, and then the shaved parts of his hair, Hyuk hums, very softly, against his lips. Soft enough that Hyoseob keeps his hand on the back of his neck, arm on his shoulder, pressing him against the wall, holding him close.

"Missed this," Hyoseob says. Hyuk kisses his chin, the tip of his nose, that spot under his left eye that he always presses his lips against to mean _love_ instead of saying it out loud. He kisses Hyoseob's neck, running his tongue along the skin and the drying sweat. "You."

Hyuk chuckles, nose pressed under Hyoseob's ear, mouth on the hinge of his jaw. "How much?" 

He unbuckles Hyoseob's belt, pops the button on his jeans open and tugs his zipper down. When he brings his hand to Hyoseob's mouth, his fingers smell like cigarette smoke. They taste like tar and tobacco when Hyoseob closes his lips around two of them, getting as much spit in his mouth to get them wet. It's worth it, for the way Hyuk looks at him, for how he can't tear his eyes away from his own fingers moving up and down Hyoseob's tongue. He takes them out of his mouth, and then they're in Hyoseob's underwear, wet around his cock. Hyoseob isn't hard yet, but Hyuk starts moving his fingers. Gentle and precise, like he has no trouble remembering how to touch him. "This much?"

Hyoseob shakes his head. "No." He turns his head so he can kiss the line of Hyuk's neck, so he can scrape his teeth along the skin and hear Hyuk sharply draw in a breath that he's trying to muffle. "More." He tugs Hyuk's shirt out of the way so he can suck at the soft part of the skin where his neck meets his shoulder, getting it wet with his spit. He runs his tongue over it. Hyuk lets his head drop back against the wall. His eyelids are drooping, but he's still looking at Hyoseob, at how his face changes as he gets hard under his hand.

A street light at the mouth of the alley flickers. When Hyuk exhales, his breath comes out in a billow of white, like he's still smoking. He moves his thumb in a way that has Hyoseob leaning further into him, pressing their mouths together, teeth closing gently around Hyuk's upper lip before Hyuk's tongue finds his. 

"Why—" Hyoseob starts, but Hyuk cuts him off with a tug of teeth on lips and a laugh. He has to start again. "Why here? We could take the car to my place." 

Hyuk takes his hand out of his underwear, and for a moment Hyoseob thinks he'll say yes. But then Hyuk spits into his own palm, and his hand is back around Hyoseob's cock, slicker. He starts jerking him off with quicker, smaller movements that have Hyoseob gasping, twitching in his fingers. He hasn't had anyone touch him like this, in a place like this, for a long time. He braces an arm against the wall, next to Hyuk's shoulder, and breathes warm against his neck.

"I didn't want to wait," Hyuk says, and the way he laughs almost sounds like he's embarrassed about it. "I wanted to see if this still feels the same." Hyoseob's precome drips into the palm of his hand, and he spreads it over the shaft, all the way down to the base. He cups Hyoseob's jaw with his other hand, and he doesn't need to apply any pressure at all, because Hyoseob turns his head immediately so Hyuk can kiss him. Slow and deep, his tongue heavy in Hyoseob's mouth. Against his wet lips, Hyuk says, "Touch me." He grabs Hyoseob's wrist so he can suck on his fingers, forefinger and ring finger and thumb, wrapping his tongue around each one and getting at the soft skin between them. He keeps his eyes open, tilts his head so that his hair falls away from his face, so Hyoseob can see his cheeks hollow and his lips pout. Hyoseob laughs, entirely breathless. His wet fingers slide out of Hyuk's mouth, and Hyuk just grins.

Hyuk is hard, the tip of his cock leaking precome and getting the front of his underwear damp when Hyoseob gets his hand on him. "Fuck." Hyoseob wraps his fingers around the shaft, tight, and Hyuk rolls his hips forward. Once, and then again. "You're killing me," Hyoseob says. Hyuk bites down on his lip when the tip of his cock pushes past the circle of Hyoseob's fingers. Hyoseob moves his hand, letting him fuck into it. He's wet enough that Hyoseob doesn't need to spit in his hand.

"Hah," Hyuk breathes out. "I've just— been thinking about this all night." His fingers are in Hyoseob's hair. His lips are on the side of Hyoseob's face. "Your— your cock." He whispers it, and Hyoseob feels the fingers that are on his cock move, down to his balls and to the soft spot behind them. He moans, trying to muffle it in Hyuk's jacket. "Your hands," Hyuk says, thumbing his slit and spreading the precome over the head of Hyoseob's cock when it drips out. "Your— your mouth, shit, Hyoseob, I missed your mouth."

Hyoseob lets him have it, lets Hyuk kiss him again, tongue licking at his lips, at his tongue, too much spit and too much heavy breathing between them. He squeezes his fingers as he strokes up Hyuk's cock, meeting his thrusts. Hyuk groans against his mouth, and it's _loud,_ too loud for how close to the door they are, and Hyoseob has to kiss him again, and keep kissing him. And then, when he runs out of breath, he presses his free hand against Hyuk's mouth because Hyuk just can't stay quiet. He pants against the skin of Hyoseob's palm, his hips writhing back against the wall, and forwards to meet Hyoseob's hand. 

"Darling." Hyoseob kisses his cheek, right next to his fingers. "I want to hear you so bad, but you have to keep it down." He kisses his jaw, and his neck again, where Hyuk's muscles are straining from how he's holding himself. "I love you so much," he says, and watches Hyuk close his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose. "Can you be good for me?" Hyuk nods. He swallows, thick, Adam's apple bobbing in his neck. Hyoseob relaxes his grip over his mouth, and when Hyuk nods again, he moves his hand away.

And then, Hyuk is gripping at his hair, pulling him in to push their mouths together, tangle their tongues, and Hyoseob stumbles against him, hand grabbing the wall for purchase. His lips are throbbing when Hyuk pulls off. His cock is throbbing in Hyuk's hand. He can feel the pit of his stomach clench. Hyuk kisses his temple, speeds up his hand. He breathes, heavy, across his cheek, and then he tugs at Hyoseob's hair to make him move. 

Hyoseob's lips slide against his, tongue on tongue, and then Hyuk groans, softer, into his mouth, and Hyoseob feels his cock twitch in his hand. Hot come spurts out, and Hyuk is still kissing him even as he's starting to tremble, coming into Hyoseob's hand. His grip on Hyoseob's cock falters, gets sloppy, and then Hyoseob bites down, hard, on his own lower lip, because he's coming into his underwear, painting Hyuk's fingers with it. He breathes out, long and deep, letting his mouth fall slack.

Hyuk pulls his hand out. Hyoseob closes his eyes, so he only hears Hyuk lick his fingers clean. He feels like he needs to sit down. Hyuk takes Hyoseob's hand out of his own underwear, and licks that, too, his tongue gentle against the soft parts of Hyoseob's palm. Hyoseob just breathes through it, holding onto Hyuk's shoulder, thumb rubbing his collarbone.

He feels a kiss on his cheekbone, his chin. Hyuk zips them both up, distracting Hyoseob with his mouth. A long kiss on that spot under his left eye, the one that Hyuk kisses every time he wants to say _love._

"Hyoseob," Hyuk says, into his skin. Hyoseob can't believe, again, always, how lucky he is to have him. "Seob-ah."

He opens his eyes. Hyuk's cheeks are flushed, and his lips are kiss swollen and shiny. He licks them. And he smiles, and it clenches around Hyoseob's heart like a vice. He smiles back, and he recognises Hyuk's eyes light up with his own happiness, mirroring it back at him. "Yeah?"

"I haven't done anything like that in years," Hyuk says, and his laugh is so light, so warm that Hyoseob has to feel it on his lips. So he leans in, and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](http://twitter.com/doyoufanxy)


End file.
